Sixty:01

Here is my first collection of sixty haiku, senryu, and a few neithers. I’m putting them here so I don’t get the crazy idea of submitting them elsewhere. They’re poems from the very beginning of my haiku journey. At this point, I already have Sixty:02 and half of Sixty:03 in my phone (where I store these while they’re works in progress). Since I almost always have my phone with me, I can record a poem every time a falcon lands on my shoulder.

Enjoy the poems:

1
Addiction took him
and the TV.

2
Our life
in the new house
smells like paint.

3
Life is already unfair
without your help.
Go away.

4
The crickets play
with virtuosity
on midsummer nights.

5
Life is okay
between faraway dogs
barking.

6
Before hanging my hat
and bed:
Homecoming.

7
Later and later
the lights go out;
teenaging.

8
Head on a wet pillow –
dead leaves
autumn.

9
3 bees –
summer party.

10
He arrives
like spring,
always on time.

11
Freedom
is being
a day early.

12
Sliding on
the pond’s surface:
waterbug flight.

13
Moss climbs
over the horizon;
life after…

14
Japanese garden stones
space
between her toes.

15
Wrinkled
classic rock shirt —
iron maiden.

16
White triangles
grazing blue;
sailboats.

17
Eating under trees,
my lunch
is garnished.

18
The sun shimmies
towards me
across the water

19
The scorching sun
followed me all day,
burning my ears

20
Regret is
the sun following you —
Driving too fast.

21
At the terminal
busses arriving –
waves slacking.

22
Bus station times table:
I wish the routes home
multiplied.

23
On the metro
people
have no eyes

24
I forgot
my bathing suit —
warm rain water.

25
Puddles
are potholes –
don’t fall in.

26
Puddles
on cobblestone –
haphazard tilejob.

27
The grass is greener
on the other side
of the storm.

28
Lost love and
fiery food:
heartburn.

29
Am I always warm
when you’re around?
Because you’re around.

30
Skillsaw and
skinny cat —
two whiners.

31
Do you see
an eyelash fall?
Hear it land?

32
Cat slips out
into the rain —
no forethought.

33
Late night, bleary morning.
Coffee?
How about cocaine.

34
Between glances:
Sun beams and
bamboo shoots.

35
Noticing an exit
sign flickering,
I pass.

38
Head thrown back
the boy laughs.

39
No paper towels?
Let’s dry our wings
like ducks.

40
She points to
the lizard
with no tail.

41
Children’s shouts,
neighbor’s TV:
Sorry afternoon nap.

42
Sheep asleep;
I count
tosses and turns.

43
Grandma’s final breaths —
driving from the ocean.

44
Staring at the sun
with closed eyes —
dark blue fish.

45
The statue says I win.
The great mime,
doesn’t blink.

46
The three-legged dog
greets me
on hind-leg.

47
All day
their toothbrushes
cuddled.

48
Hey Puget Sound:
What’s it like
to live in a Sound?

49
In the library
outside noises
are far away.

50
My father’s reading
light is on late
again.

51
War and Peace
is heavy,
are heavy.

52
My flip-flops are
older than us —
So?

53
A breeze
swings a leaf
on a gossamer strand.

54
In the distance,
a car alarm is
scaring away cats.

55
Emaciated hummingbird
will do anything
for nosecandy.

56
Ant
on cactus needle —
What’s so sharp?

57
I can’t count
every leaf
that rustles.

58
A breeze —
A leaf
rambles past.

59
It means people
were here before me —
food wrapper in bush.

60
Mango mochi,
mango mochi —
Ah life!

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